


What Lovers Do

by Syarue



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Antsy Len, Barry Saves The Day, Barry and Len's Deal is Still Valid, Barry is a Tease, Barry is the Flash, Barry lives alone, Based on a Maroon 5 Song, Before Rogues, Chapter Lengths Are Not Consistent, Dates, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Foxy Barry, Hostage Situations, I'm Bad At Summaries, Kissing, Len Saves the Day, Len is Obsessed with Barry, Len is still a criminal, Len lives alone, Len works alone, Leonard Snart Robber of ATMs, M/M, Mirror Master did not rot in the mirror for three years, No Mick I'm sorry, Sexual Tension, Songfic, Swearing, Tags May Change, Very Mild Violence, coldflash - Freeform, give it a chance, hardly any relevance to the series, protective Len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12293514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syarue/pseuds/Syarue
Summary: What do lovers do? But before that---are they lovers at all?





	1. Say Hey Now, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> So my real OTP is Coldflash and I'm more than excited to post my first Coldflash fic which will not be a one-shot! I should probably be studying for my college entrance exam and interviews and all that stuff but here I am being a fangirl and fantasizing...Do I regret it? No. lol  
> I am not a diehard fan of Maroon 5 (I'm a Coldplay/Twenty One Pilots trash-high five if you're a fan of any of these bands) but I came to love What Lovers Do so much that I decided to write a fic based on it. If you look close enough you'll see references to the lyrics.  
> Well anyways I hope you like it and I will love you if you leave any ideas about it (honestly I wouldn't even mind a single dot as a comment).  
> Thank you people!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry pays a visit to Len in the dead of night and leaves him frustrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV changes with every chapter and for this one, it will be Lenny's POV. Just so you don't get confused.

             The scarlet blur was all too familiar.

             He couldn’t lie----Len felt something other than annoyance at the sight of the vibrant red whizzing by. He had long since traveled past the stage of convincing himself that he was not remotely gratified by the random visits of Central City’s very own superhero every now and then. The first time the kid had shown up at his ‘crime’ scene, Len had only considered him a pest, trying to monitor if he abided by the petty deal that they had established between themselves. Barry Allen would cast some cheeky comments at his face or throw him off guard by freely invading his personal space using his goddamn speed…just to mess around. But the more it happened, the shorter the duration got, and over the course of time, even the frequency of the stay lessened visibly. Before he knew it, Len was bitterly feeling the lack and found himself involuntarily checking his surroundings for anything resembling a flicker of crimson prior to fleeing from the site.

             That was why his heart rate climbed noticeably when a lightning came into his sight. Yes, it was the same slender boy in that silly red skintight outfit casually leaning against a lone streetlight in the dead of night. How long had it been since the last encounter? Seven, eight days? Len hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing Barry until now. He nearly dropped the suitcase stuffed with the spoils of war won from the fierce battle with the mighty ATM out of joy that took so much effort for him to hide. To be honest, this ‘robbery’ was more of an accident that kind of just happened on a whim on his part. It wasn’t any more than a stroll in the wee hours for him in which even the Cold Gun or his signature goggles served no purpose other than getting him into the spirit. Which was one of the reasons why he hadn’t anticipated the speedster to spare his precious time for this insignificant visit. Not that he was complaining.

             “Leonard Snart, robber of ATM’s,” Barry remarked, tittering. Len shrugged nonchalantly.

             “Nice to see you, too, Barry,” said Len dryly.

             “Oh, you bet.”

             “So,” Len started, taking a step down the stairs, “what kept you so busy? Lost interest in the worn out toy?” He was hoping he sounded indifferent enough like he was asking about the weather or anything like that kind of shit. Luckily, Barry didn’t seem to have caught on the accusing undertone in the question. Or did he?

             “Well, you know I’ve got a handful of crimes to deal with day and night. As much as I fancy stalking you, you’ve got to understand the life of a CSI _and_ a superhero is pretty tight.” Sometimes, the amount of arrogance in the kid’s words was astonishing. Len figured that Barry probably didn’t speak to his friends and family in this manner often, if not never.

             “Then should I be obliged you kindly dropped by for a hello?” said Len, mockingly.

             “Exactly,” Barry chuckled. “But I promise it’ll be longer than a hello.”

             Len’s spirit was lifted automatically at the speedster’s word. He fixed his gaze on Barry as the boy made his way toward him. Even though he was stepping out of the domain of amber illumination of the streetlamp, Barry’s facial features were becoming more and more distinct as their distance closed. Len appreciated the fact that there was no mask covering half of his ravishing visage----considering there was no need for the traditional identity concealing given that they know each other very well----and that what little glow there was was creating an effect somewhat reminding him of a halo. He took the time to study Barry’s eyes almost shimmering amidst the dark, failing to make out the precise color they wore like he always did (despite the fact that his goggles probably tampered with his ability to name hues this time). The undefinable shade that sometimes looked like green and other times hazel or even blue just about summed up its owner’s character; inscrutable. Barry left Len baffled most of the time and he seemed to enjoy it.

            “Your eyes are gonna shoot flames out of those goggles.” Of course, Barry clearly understood the meaning of the steady stare. Len didn’t bother to break the eye contact, though.

            “Didn’t know you had clairvoyance, too.”

            “I don’t need superpowers to notice some things, Len,” smiled Barry. That cunning kid.

            “You’re getting comfortable with going by ‘Len’,” he pointed out, aiming at Barry with his gun without intending to. He managed to hold back too much delight from showing.

            “I don’t know. I thought ‘Snart’ or ‘Cold’ sounded too… _distant_ now that we’re----.”

             Len’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Barry zapped in front of him without a warning. He held his breath startled, but moved not an inch.

            “ _So close_ ,” the speedster finished his sentence in a toned-down voice.

             A momentary silence filled the air as they both bored into each other’s eyes with fervor unprecedented. The intense fire of scarlet dancing in the boy’s pupils was drawing Len even closer to him, who was some mere several inches away. Len could feel the kid’s soft breath brushing his face and did it bring a change in the speed of the blood pumping through his veins. He could not help but notice how long and attractive Barry’s eyelashes were; they added to the depth of the color in his eyes and made them look even more unfathomable of a minute galaxy than they already were. Len cursed in his mind admitting to himself that he was hopelessly smitten with this hardly modest, so-called hero of Central City. It was as if he was completely enraptured by something about Barry, and along with this realization, an icy flame of desire was set ablaze in his heart.

            “Oh, I love your cold,” Barry whispered. The husky yet dulcet melody slithered into Len’s ears, vibrating his eardrums into a blissful fantasy. Did he just say he _loved_ his cold?

             That one comment raised his eagerness to a whole new level. Len almost didn’t hear himself when he whispered back, “I can do hot, too.” He unconsciously fixed his eyes on Barry’s slightly parted lips as the speedster dared to move even closer to him. They were basically a second away from meeting lips, breaths quivery and faint like this moment would suddenly crumble if not dealt with as though walking on thin ice. Len gently dropped the stupid suitcase in his left hand and made a subtle move to rest it on Barry’s hips to continue on with this spellbinding scene. However, leaving only an afterimage of a mischievous grin behind, the speedster vanished from his grasp before his hand even made contact with him.

             Len was forced out of the trance as he looked behind to see Barry with his very own goggles on. The boy had his arms crossed while leaning against the wall of the bank that he had just silently robbed a few minutes ago. Len felt so fucking sorry for the chance that was ripped from his hands, watching that playful smile that Barry wore. Never in his life had he wished he could punch _and_ kiss such a smug face at the same time. He forced a smirk on his mouth but clenched his fingers around the trigger of his Cold Gun. _The damn kid knows how to play around with a hungry criminal._

             “I’m sure you can, but you’ll have to do better, Len.”

             Len was speechless. So much for Captain Cold’s hotness.

             “By the way, I think your goggles are pretty cute,” Barry remarked, before a trail of vivid red planted a short-lived gleam in the robber’s pupils. Just as the way he arrived, he was gone in a blink of an eye. The gust of wind slapped Len in the face, barely allowing him to register what the hell had just happened. Bluntly speaking, Barry had flirted with him every time he decided to tag along Len’s heists but they were mostly words, words, words. The intimacy itself had never gotten as overwhelming as it had today. The thought of the almost-kiss irritated him once again; maybe he should not have taken the time too slowly because time with the freaking Flash was never a leisurely one. Now he was going to sleep fitfully through the night thinking over and over about what he should have done and what he shouldn’t have. Plus, about how fatally alluring that fucking speedster was.

              Len let out his frustration by blasting his Cold Gun at the wall Barry had been reclining against. He had taken care of the surveillance camera earlier, but now the devastated wall covered in layers of ice was going to give away who had broken in. But as of now, that was the least of his concerns. He didn’t give a shit about revealing his notorious title or conducts anyway. Although the history of robbing this frail little building and an ATM was probably going to impair his flamboyant reputation.

              Sighing, Len tore his gaze from the path on which Barry had run off. He shook his head and picked up his suitcase from the ground. The chilly air of early winter felt hollow as hell. Even the streetlight was starting to fail and aggravate the lack Len was feeling. He took a look at the Cold Gun in his hand and bit his lower lip, contemplating what his next move should be. Now that the flame had been set afire in himself, Len knew there was no other way to extinguish it but to use a proper method.

              He needed Barry _so bad_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm hoping this wasn't too cheesy for your liking.  
> Please let me know if there is any stuff that I should fix or if you would simply write a comment of encouragement, you will be loved.  
> I'll try my best to upload the second part as soon as possible but gOD, am I a slow writer and a busy person.  
> Just you wait, friends...
> 
> Um if you are curious as to how Barry found Len...let's just say he likes to track Len in his free time and can find him whenever he wants...that shouldn't be too creepy...right?


	2. Lucky or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry's first 'date' with Len gets out of hand as it meets a perilous, unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is more than twice as long as the first chapter and it took a long time, too, so I hope it's worth it.
> 
> I don't know Jitters' closing hour or what the streets look like or whether there really is an alleyway nearby etc so I just made everything up.
> 
> I'm just happy to continue on with this fic hehe
> 
> +Ch.2 is Barry's POV

   The cyan frost was all too familiar.

   Following the trace of hoarfrost in his apartment corridor, Barry wasn’t surprised to find his metal door completely sealed in blankets of impenetrable ice. He let out a small laughter when he noticed a piece of paper fossilized inside it, matching his eye level. Then he reached inside by phasing through the solid sheets and grabbed the damp paper. _Thanks, because additional cold was so necessary this winter_ , Barry thought to himself. He unhappily watched his breaths mingling and changing into visible mist in front of him before scrutinizing the neat, sophisticated handwriting of the man who had left this message.

   “ _Need those goggles back. Jitters 10 PM_ ,” he quietly read to himself. “Jitters? Len?” For some reason, imagining Len ensconcing himself on a couch and slurping some hot mocha at Jitters was an odd experience. Well, Barry had never met the ‘civilian’ Leonard Snart yet. He only knew the Captain Cold version of him, and he guessed Len knew only the Flash Barry Allen, too, despite how frisky they had gotten with each other of late.

   Barry carefully folded the note and placed it inside his pocket. He checked the time; 7:32 p.m. He still had hours before meeting Len. Maybe he could spend the time wisely by first stuffing his famished speedster stomach screaming for food and washing off the nerdy CSI air about him by taking a shower. Barry rested his hand on the sweating ice and vibrated it, causing it to be pulverized and crumbled down at his feet. He frowned, knowing that a large puddle would have been formed by the time he steps out the door again. He tugged at the stiffened handle of his door nonetheless and slipped inside his nest.

 

**_~~~~~_ **

****

**_9:48 p.m._ **

 

_Splash!_

   “Shit,” Barry cursed. He had forgotten about the pool of molten ice at his doorstep. Soggy socks were the last thing he could ask for this winter, so he zipped back in to find himself another pair and dry shoes. _Better._ Skipping over the despicable puddle, Barry did not forget to slam his door shut.

   He had to walk (or run) in his normal pace if he did not want to risk getting caught on the CCTV----either running at an incomprehensible speed or vanishing from sight anyways----, and that meant he was probably late for this appointment with his supposed nemesis. Barry got carried away deciding what to wear, what to do with his hair, and even what to say. After spending over an hour at his bedside catwalk and the bathroom, he came to the conclusion that being himself was for the best. But he did put on that one cologne Iris had bought for him on Thanksgiving. It was the only one he had, and he thought he would save it for a special occasion. This was definitely a special occasion.

   Jitters was just a block ahead now. Barry still couldn’t picture Len sitting there without any intention to rob that place, but frankly, he was looking forward to this session. I mean, how could this whole thing be merely about ‘returning the goggles’? By all means, Barry could sense that the goggles were just a cute excuse that Len came up with to see Barry. But him taking it in the first place was also part of the game of chase he was willing to initiate. A taste for criminals…or a perilous tug-of-war; it was something Barry had never known to be his kind of thing. But what now? He was thrilled and definitely game for it.

   The pleasant warm air stirring in the café embraced him when he walked through the door. Even though it was half an hour before closing time, Jitters was still crowded with people. _Because it’s Friday night_ , Barry thought.

   Barry scanned the place, searching for a familiar figure, and there he was, reading a book at the far corner. Reading a book. How sexy was that? Barry put a smirk on his face as he made his way to Len who was currently deeply absorbed in whatever book he was holding in his hand. Len didn’t even look up when Barry plumped down on the comfy sofa across his’.

   “I got you a caramel macchiato. Thought you’d like something sweet,” said Len, his eyes still glued to the writing. Coffee at 10 p.m. would normally have been a problem if it wasn’t for Barry’s speedster metabolism, but that was least of his concerns.

   “You actually _paid_ for this?” There was a genuine marvel in Barry’s words. He studied the mug filled to the brink with luscious, steamy liquid in amusement and wonder. “I’m flattered.” What a look Len gave him.

   “I do steal money to _use_ them, Barry,” remarked Len, finally putting away the book.

   Barry sipped the macchiato to find it too syrupy for his taste. He noticed that what Len had bought for himself was just an Americano. Did Len think of him as a kid, liking sugary drinks and stuff? But he decided not to make a comment, and simply threw a grin of appreciation at the man before setting it down on the table.

   “I thought you were a wanted criminal,” Barry suggested. Honestly, with Captain Cold being a rather notorious villain, it surprised him how freely Len could roam about amidst so many people undetected.

   “Sadly, I don’t seem to be as famous as I would like to be without my fancy gadgets. But don’t you worry, Barry. The cameras are asleep tonight.”

   “That’s a relief, because I was wondering what to say to my boss if I ever had to explain how I ended up having a late night coffee date with you.”

   Len raised an eyebrow. “Date?”

   Barry loved hearing the subtle transition in his tone. “Isn’t that what this is?” He tilted his head and bored into Len’s eyes almost to a seductive level. Yet again Barry found himself doing something he would never have known he had in himself a few months ago----and the blame was entirely on his instincts, not efforts. Thankfully, the change in Len’s classic cynical expression indicated that this wouldn’t end up producing an awkward moment.

   “If you like,” Len murmured, the line of his lips curved ever so slightly. It pleased Barry that the meaning of the smile on his face was transformed within seconds.

   The momentary silence shattered when Barry shifted to take out the goggles from his pocket. He didn’t immediately hand it over to Len, but rather played with it in his hands and studied it.

   “If you just wanted this back, you could’ve simply robbed me of it like it’s your specialty.”

   “I thought, then you would…flash away like it’s your specialty.”

   “That was a terrible reference,” Barry giggled at the overused expression.

   “I know. I regret it,” grumbled Len, rubbing his chin like he couldn’t accept what he had just said.

   “But I’d say you made the right choice, keeping me seated.” He set the goggles down on the table in front of Len. Len stared down hesitantly at the reason behind this meeting like taking it back connoted the termination of their bizarre relationship. How could the face of a criminal celebrated for his shrewdness and relentlessness be so straightforward like a blank canvas? Slowly, almost reluctantly, Len clutched what was his’ and tucked it inside his parka’s pocket. It was funny how Len eyed him warily as he did so, like Barry was going to sprint off the moment the purpose of the brief ‘date’ was accomplished. Nah, Barry felt like sticking around a bit more to get to know more about Len’s different side. And then perhaps improvise to leave him breathless again…? He knew it was cruel, but he enjoyed it too much to let it go.

   “It was a surprise you decided to show up, anyway,” Len confessed. “I had doubts when you were running late.”

   “Hey, I was only four minutes late,” Barry protested.

   “You can circumnavigate the world in four minutes,” countered Len.

   Barry laughed. “Len, even _that’s_ nonsense.”

   “It looks feasible from how you materialize and dematerialize in my face.” Len sounded close to complaining. “Coming and going as you wish, sticking your nose in a criminal’s business while playing a hero…if only Central City knew this side of the Flash.”

   “But you like it.”

   Len didn’t answer. Barry leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand, smirking at the man’s silent reaction.

   “Thinking of how things went last time…,” he slurred the end of his sentence and watched Len’s Adam’s apple shift as he swallowed nervously. Even though Len was trying to keep his calm, cool posture, Barry could tell by gazing into his pupils that this man’s thoughts were running wild recalling the thirst left unquenched from the other night.

   “It’s such a pity you’re not fast enough to catch me, isn’t it?” God, if he were Len, he would most like have already punched himself out of sheer annoyance. All Len did, fortunately, was harden his grip on the mug’s handle and drink from it, alleviating the cold flame in his heart in doing so. Then he locked his eyes on Barry’s with an unfaltering glint.

   “I may not be fast enough, but remember, I can slow you down.”

   His low voice gave Barry chills, but it was the kind that made his heart palpitate with anticipation. It also represented Len’s enthusiasm for this seesaw game that he had been patiently waiting for. This was satisfactory an answer.

   “Try me,” Barry dared him.

   Len was about to cast a blunt, eager remark at Barry’s impish haughtiness when----

_Bang!_

_\----_ the sound of a gunfire followed by a panicked tumult from across the street discouraged his speech. Barry instinctively shot up from his seat and turned his attention towards the source of the sound as a weighty silence fell upon the entire café. The next moment, all he could register was that Jitters was suddenly thrown into a chaotic whirlwind of frenzy and ruckus filled with terrified cries and entanglement of people struggling to either hide or escape from the building. The following chain of gunshots originating from a site adjacent to their location did nothing but exacerbate the pandemonium rising. Barry knew this was his cue. _Great timing_ , he clenched his teeth.

   An exchange of glances was all that was needed for Len to understand what was bound to happen. Barry noticed that Len seemed rather entertained by this drastic change in the situation and also in Barry’s atmosphere. Heroic Barry Allen in action was probably what he had not experienced in person for a lengthy period of time----in fact, the only time he’d seen it was when justice was about to be brought upon himself, anterior to the settlement of their deal. But what time did Barry have to analyze this?

   Barry whizzed out of Jitters, not forgetting to swiftly put on his suit on the way. The deranged lunatic was randomly firing his rifle at pedestrians on the streets, who were frantically attempting to dodge likely death. Just as Barry arrived at the scene, he caught a glimpse of a single bullet speeding its way toward the first potential victim of a mortal gunshot wound. _Not a chance_. He sprinted toward the spiraling piece of fatal metal (thanking God for his speed being greater than that of a bullet) and managed to grasp it mid-air. It was freakishly searing, but a temporary pain in his fingers was far better than what would have been inevitable should he have missed it. The civilian, frozen on the spot processing the fact that he might as well have been dead if it wasn’t for this hero, stood there, his feet rooted to the ground and wide-eyed.

   “Sir, you need to go somewhere safe!” Barry shook the man out of his state in an urgent tone. The frail fellow regained his senses and scurried out of the area leaving fragmented syllables of a ‘thank you’ behind.

   The Flash had no time to lose; a moment wasted would cause devastating casualties. The good thing----which was perhaps the bad at the same time----was that the armed man was not, in particular, aiming at the civilians but blindly firing into the air, ground, cars and whatsoever. So far Barry couldn’t make out what had motivated him to carry out this conduct of pure insanity and malice, but all he knew was that he had to be stopped.

   Holding the anonymous gunman in check was not exactly a demanding task. Since he, fortunately, wasn’t a metahuman secretly hiding some kind of heinous, peculiar abilities, Barry was able to bust his gun out of his hands, drag him over to the sidewalk, and bind him to prevent whatever further malevolent schemes he had in mind. It only took a few zigzags of scarlet on the street to put an end to the horrifying situation.

   Barry panted as he took a step back from the confused yet brazen man. He was enraged, yes, and had to figure what the fuck he was up to, besides causing a calamity and killing a bunch of innocent people.

   “Flash…I knew you’d come,” the beast of a man chuckled. He _chuckled_. The shade that had manifested upon Barry’s complexion darkened even more to a solemn murk.

   “Why the hell did you do this? People could have died if I hadn’t come fast enough,” Barry chided in an icy, composed voice, but with evident wrath brimming.

   “It’s something you’ll never understand, boy. I bet you’ve never felt misery, downright hatred, and deprivation----to the point you don’t even care if anyone fucking lives or dies,” spat the terrorist, fuming with angst.

   “No, don’t you _dare_ talk about misery. Or hatred and deprivation.” Barry’s voice was trembling with fury. Bright as he was in his daily life, those have been branded deep in his heart and had become a part of him ever since the life-changing night from fourteen years ago. It was just that he had learned over time how to conceal it from the world.

   “Then you must know this urge. To give full vent to your feelings and let the outburst consume you.” The hideous smile that snaked across the man’s face was more of baring of teeth, immersed in his own crazed mind and emotions. “With my everything gone; my fortune, my job, my family and friends; I’ve got nothing to lose and care for. I couldn’t care less for those fucking idiots idling on the streets and laughing like everything’s fine and cool.”

   “That hardly justifies what you’ve done. The second you pull the trigger, you are no more than a terrorist. Be thankful no one’s died tonight,” Barry rebuked him.

   “I just had to slit that one bastard’s throat, but I failed. I had to gut that son of a bitch for tricking me into betting everything but I couldn’t, so I _had_ to do this, or else I was going to… _explode_.” What was left of little sympathy he had for this man full of grudge dissipated altogether when Barry came to realize that the reason behind all the forfeiture he underwent was gambling.

   “So this was a meaningless temper tantrum for a result that _you_ brought upon yourself?” Barry could not believe that this man lacked any kind of conscience or guilt for what he had done. Hearing the sirens start to wail in the distance, Barry disgustedly hissed at the glaring man. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done. Whether or not you learn your lesson is up to you.”

   Barry turned around to leave the scene, when a freezing blast of cold fire shot past him, nearly grazing his skin, followed by an agonized gurgle. He abruptly turned to see the terrorist’s bound hands blackening with some deadly frostbite. A small revolver clattered on the ground as it fell from his grip. Looking back at Len with his cold gun directly pointed at the man’s hands, Barry gradually grasped the situation. Apparently, the man had something up his sleeves (quite literally) and was planning to shoot him the moment Barry showed his back. Barry could have breathed his last if Len hadn’t been there to present the man with his icy blaze.

   “Rule number one: don’t show your back to a criminal,” Len coolly stated. Barry gawked taken aback at the reflection of himself on Len’s goggles. Did this guy just save his life?

   “…Captain Cold!” The terrorist snarled viciously. “You…you are a criminal, too…!” He was suppressing pained screams with all his might. The tainted skin of his fingers was nauseating to even look at.

   “I am, but I live by a code.” Len withdrew his gun and propped it against his shoulder. “That is to _never_ mess with the Flash.”

   Len’s cocky smile had never been more lovable.

 

**~~~~~**

 

   “I’m moved,” Barry said to Len, half sincerely and half-jokingly. They were standing in a dim-lit alleyway a couple blocks away from the ruined site ravaged by showers of a madman’s bullets. Distant noises of police sirens were echoing in the background, along with speckles and smudges of red and blue casting subdued illumination around them. Barry had whisked Len away with him shortly after Len had gladly coated the gunman’s hand with his cold gun’s kiss to save his ass. He had to wrap up this outrageous ‘date’ because he couldn’t simply let it end in smoke and conclude all fuzzily. And after all, Captain Cold was one of the most wanted criminals there ever was, so it was necessary to guarantee his escape from the police if Barry wished not to see him from the opposite side of a glass wall the next time. Now they were engulfed in the dark, in complete privacy and stillness. Barry was glad CCPD didn’t require a CSI at the moment.

   “So am I,” Len replied. He still had his stupid goggles on, so it was hard to read his eyes in this shadow. “I fancy your heroic speeches. Especially when they’re truthful and full of anger.” True, Barry wasn’t entirely his usual noble self tonight in terms of the inspiring talk with the villain. He wasn’t imploring, or desperately searching for a way to dig out the good in the person like he usually did. Barry simply made the judgment that in no way, would this crooked soul be able to be reformed. He’d been realistic and heartless.

   “But this one would’ve been my last if it wasn’t for you, Len. You were there, right time, right place. You had my back,” Barry hazily spilled out his words as he intruded Len’s personal space once again.

   “You make it hard for me not to. And you know that…Scarlet,” said Len. The last word sent a wave of a warm feeling down to his heart, like he had taken in a mouthful of heated red wine blessing his body while coursing down his throat.

   “‘Scarlet’? You came up with a pet name for me?” Barry beamed. “That’s adorable.”

   “I’m honored,” was the short answer. Barry could tell Len’s spirits were lifted, though.

   Seconds, which seemed like hours, passed by while they would do nothing but stare at each other. Barry felt a sudden impulse hacking into his mind----an impulse derived from his innermost desire to hint affection and attraction towards this man, to mark him as his’. In other words; _to kiss_. It was an urge that he’d been successfully stifling for a long time already. All those times, Len may have thought that Barry was just dallying with him by deliberately emanating sex appeal and maintaining a flirtatious attitude at all times near him. But in reality, Barry was the first to rapidly slip into the quicksand of falling in love with Leonard Snart and carrying out such silly conducts was his own way of making Len feel the same way towards him.

   And now Barry could not resist the urge like he had last time they got so overwhelmingly intimate. However, he couldn’t let go of the control of the game, just yet. So he decided to do it differently.

   Everything was over in a microsecond. It happened so quick that Len barely felt anything save the pleasant, sweet aftertaste of something that reminded him of caramel macchiato lingering on his tongue. Barry grinned seeing the realization surfacing on Len’s dumbstruck face----he had speed-kissed him.

   “You’ve earned it,” Barry licked his lips. It was selfish, he knew, for all there was left for Len to enjoy was savoring the afterglow of a flicker of a kiss inside his mouth and imagining the moment that he couldn’t possibly recall. As Barry had expected, Len was frozen on the spot to comprehend and digest what the hell this kid had done to him. And Barry knew this was the perfect point to dart off, again.

   So he did. Running away, to keep this man on the edge of his seat. To make him long even more for him. To get him to _love_ him.

   This was Barry’s specialty.


	3. Too Grown for Games?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate doesn't allow Barry and Len to have one freaking peaceful date----everything was perfect until a couple of Len's old, malicious acquaintances show up with crazy new abilities (ones that freak them out)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back after something like a hiatus.  
> Why does this fic get longer by each chapter is the question
> 
> Finally getting to what is close to a climax in this story...believe me I did not know it would end up being this long it was originally planned as a one-shot..! And hopefully that explains why it might seem kinda dull and prolonged to some of you
> 
> Len's POV

   The symptoms were getting worse. He couldn’t concentrate on one subject for more than five minutes because through some kind of ingenious association that he thought his brain was not capable of crafting, the blasted speedster would magically find his way into his mind and scramble all the thoughts peacefully organized in it. Just a sight of red anywhere was enough.

   Len flung the blueprint of the museum----the next heist destination----from his desk with a vexed flick of his hand and plunked himself down on the chair. He still had yet to accomplish the job; he had to assemble a one-time team for this specific business, conjure up a clever plan to execute it, memorize the security system like the back of his hand, prepare the necessary gears, and so on. But the goddamn Flash wouldn’t let that happen. Not since the evanescent mark he’d left never failed to invoke daydreams of the marker on random occasions. Len couldn’t even touch coffee ever since that night.

   Usually, he would keep everything related to his line of work at his ‘den’, as Barry Allen calls it, and live a modest life at his completely ordinary-looking home, but a dark, quiet surrounding was the perfect setting for him to be devoured in distracting thoughts. Len decided to work on his stuff at home for a change. The sole thing to keep in mind was preventing Lisa from storming inside without a warning because it did happen once in a while. She would immediately ask to join, and if they did start working together, it would only be a matter of time before she’d figure something’s up with him and begin deducing things he wouldn’t want her to. Oh God, the nightmares Lisa would give him if she ever found out…Len shuddered.

   Right now, there was too much going on in his head. The network of his neurons was strewn with the presence of the annoying brat buzzing about. Staring at the complex map of a latent jackpot with his mind drifting elsewhere would be absolutely meaningless at this rate. Len scoffed at himself, unable to believe what an obsessed freak he’d become, and hopelessly gazed out the window.

   As he lived on the top story of the building, the view was pretty neat. But it would have been so much more wonderful if there wasn’t a sumptuous hotel blocking 75 percent of the view right across his window. Perhaps it had its pros too because sometimes Len would absent-mindedly watch the real-life reality show airing from 70-ish different channels all at once. The guests there didn’t seem to care too much about their privacy, or maybe they were just oblivious to the fact that someone may be watching from across the street. And Len didn’t particularly become guilty of it because well, he was a criminal and it was sort of like an occupational habit to carefully observe his and other possible future victims’ surroundings. But would Barry disapprove?

 _Fuck, I’m thinking about him again_ , Len thought.

   He scowled at the blameless Sun marking streaks of crimson to indigo on the sky as it sank behind the hotel building. It was 5 pm and the streetlamps were already illuminating the streets. As usual, the dark was very diligent during this season.

   Len broke his gaze with the outside world to make himself a cup of hot chocolate (because that’s his favorite) and forcefully stuffed his mind with thoughts of fluffy white marshmallows when he caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye. He looked back at the window; and there it was, a rectangular piece of paper blocking the last rays of the setting Sun.

   It was a cutout of a newspaper. A bold headline was shouting: “ ** _Captain Cold Saves the Flash?_** ” Below was a fairly sharp image of himself, blasting the cold gun at the wretched man’s hand while Barry was frozen in his spot, taken aback.

   “What the fuck.” He blurted out loud.

   But soon, a smirk replaced the surprise. He liked this surprise, and also who had kindly delivered it to his window, which was nine stories high above the concrete ground. And yes, below the picture, scrawled on top of the article was ‘ _Don’t keep me waiting_ ’.

   Len creaked open the window and allowed a gust of wintry wind to sweep his room, after which he grabbed the cutout taped on the other side. Just as he had expected, a recognizable silhouette was sitting against the fading light on the ledge of the ornamented hotel. His feet were precariously dangling off the edge but the boy seemed completely comfortable with his position. Well darn, he’s the Flash. Why would he not be.

   The distance was too far and the lighting too poor for Len to see his face, but he could’ve sworn Barry was beaming at him.

   And he was waiting.

 

**~~~~~**

 

   “You’re incredibly slow,” Barry taunted.

   “You don’t know the trouble I went through to reach here,” Len claimed coldly, because yeah, with his status and notoriety, even entering such a highly-guarded facility was a troublesome task at times. “With _human_ capabilities,” he added.

   Barry was no longer looming over the streets like an imp up to mischief but sitting propped up against the rooftop wall with his mask off, as if trying to express how long he had been waiting for Len to come up. The early moonlight and gentle glow from the city’s evening provided a mystical illumination to his body and Len appreciated it very much. To be exact, he appreciated _everything_ but those moist lips curved playfully; they were seductive as fuck and instantly brought back the tantalizing memories of the ‘kiss’ he would never be able to recollect relishing. He tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were naturally fixed on them, though.

   The speedster got to his feet and helped Len break away from the involuntary gawking. “Did you like the souvenir?” He asked.

   “Haven’t had the chance for a thorough reading, yet, but I find the question mark offensive.”

   “What, the _‘Captain Cold Saves the Flash?’_ part?”

   “Yes, as if this was the _first_ time,” complained Len, disapprovingly.

   “I’m not sure if ‘choosing not to kill’ me is equivalent to ‘saving’ me, but I’ll inform the writer of your dissatisfaction.” Len heard Barry muttering _Man, who knew the guy I saved was a journalist?_ To himself.

   The chilly wind not only ruffled the boy’s hair but compelled Len to slip his hands in his parka’s pockets. Len could not help but notice the pink flush glowing on Barry’s cheeks and the tip of his nose because that skintight suit couldn’t possibly offer him any more protection from cold than skintight anything could. He suddenly wondered why superheroes refused to design their stupid costumes in a way that ensured proper temperature corresponding to each season. And he also wondered what would happen if he decided to wrap that lean figure with his own parka out of the blue----until the question was mentally answered by ‘and then he would blur away like always’.

   He was close to being tired. The feeling had started looking mutual and he was still quite sure of it actually being mutual but every time it would end with Barry taking control of the entire situation. Len would be left there, breathless and deprived of the key to the growing need. Part of him enjoyed it, but it kind of chipped his pride as the speedster’s ‘archenemy’ and he sometimes would feel the compulsion to just clutch the boy hard and do something…to _clarify_. It took a considerable will to smother that radical drive.

   But he could ask. “Don’t you think we’re too grown for games?” Len glanced down at the bustling life of the city. To be fair, Len was a man made for games. But this kind of game was not the type he was accustomed to. He was always on the side of triumph so now that he wasn’t, Len wanted to swiftly end it with his win and as a result taste his victory.

   “We’re young enough to chase.” Barry’s response was mildly laced with defiance.

   “But old enough to know better,” Len reminded.

    Then the boy laughed heartily. “Len, I love this game. And I’m _very_ good at it.”

    “That sounds oddly familiar,” Len remarked. It didn’t take much time for him to recall when and where it was from because it was what he himself had proclaimed the day the two had settled their bargain. How things have changed since then.

    “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to use this line,” Barry winked. He then walked along the edge of the rooftop overlooking the city view with each step closing the distance between the two. Len tried to still his heart from wildly reacting to Barry’s attractiveness----fuck, this kid was probably the living proof that humans produced pheromones indeed. Seeing hot models and celebrities on shows and posters hardly had him enthralled so that he’d even questioned himself if he, in any case, was an ace, but damn, he could tell the answer was, hell, no.

    “You know what I need, Scarlet. Not the game,” spilled out of Len’s mouth before he even realized what he was saying. Man, his subconscious really took over whenever he was with Barry.

    “You mean this?” and Barry had him petrified by throwing his arms around his neck. Len’s hands shakily fell out of his pockets. Too close. Too close to those lips. He gulped but was unable to lift his gaze from the trap of a boy.

   All the impulses he’d been strenuously keeping at bay imploded. Red cheeks, red lips, red smile, all was perfect. The fingers clasped behind his neck made his hair crawl. Len’s instincts knew he was rapidly sucked up in the rip current he could not dare swim out of. The susurrus of icy wind seemed to be whispering in his ear: _do it now_. And he melted in the scene flawlessly set up for the next stage as he dove in for a taste of the naughty speedster’s luscious warmth…...

   To his millionth dismay.

   Barry effortlessly slipped away after putting a finger to Len’s lips, mouthing ‘ _not yet_ ’. Len grunted and closed his eyes. He was barely holding back the seething frustration on the brink of explosion. For God’s sake, when would it finally be ‘yet’?

   Len was glad it was winter because the cold; which became his thing; helped mitigate the anguish, plus regaining his composure. Otherwise, who knows what would have already happened between them long ago? But he knew it was a childish excuse to put a blame on the season. He simply watched Barry hungrily, and maybe reproachfully, too.

   Contrary to him, however, Barry sounded completely free from the whirlwind of complex emotions. “You know, your body’s awfully hot for your title.”

   “Only to you,” Len sighed. He meant it.

   “I don’t doubt it.” _Oh, of course, you don’t_ , Len thought.

   He cleared his throat to change the subject because he’d had enough of this subtle humiliation. “So did you call me over just for this tease-talk and mockery?”

   “That, and something else,” which was actually surprising. Len hadn’t thought there would be any other purpose for this evening meeting, given that there had been zero save the lame ‘goggles returning’ excuse he had used for justification the other time. “Perhaps I wanted to go on a second date,” suggested Barry, almost bashfully.

   Now, ‘date’ was the last word Len had expected to fall out of the boy’s mouth. He attempted visibly hard to keep his internal smile internal…to no avail. However, he replied, “Our ‘dates’ won’t have a promising future.” Hell, one was a hero and the other a villain…not to mention the fact that both would be busy doing whatever shit they usually do respectively while trying not to cross paths. Except that Len wanted more than anything to spend a whole lot of time with Barry, because fuck Romeo and Juliet shit, that’s why.

   “We’ll go somewhere clear of mayhem and criminals…besides you, I guess,” Barry perched on the parapet and reached for Len’s sleeve. Len glanced down at the ungloved hand lightly tugging at his cuff. The ability of this kid to pull a siren in one moment and put on an innocent, irresistible mask in the other made his head spin. Central City was sure blessed to have him as a guardian angel, not a supervillain.

   “Mayhem is not exactly optional when it comes to me and where I go,” Len commented sarcastically.

   “I’m aware of that. But tonight, we won’t be the Flash or Captain Cold. Let’s be Barry Allen and Leonard Snart. Or would you prefer _Scarlet_ and Len?” Barry giggled.

   “Are you setting aside your heroic duties for a date with your foe?”

   “Only for you,” the speedster promised, looking up to meet eyes.

   “I doubt it,” smirked Len. Barry snickered at the daring yet honest response. It was true, but both knew that Len was more than ready for a Scarlet and Len night.

   “Come on. I know a place,” the boy got on his feet while still clinging to Len’s parka. Knowing that Barry hadn’t come just to mess around but visited with a plan of how to spend the time in mind was definitely a new thing. This was a chance for a good, lengthy and _proper_ date he could not have dreamed of having. And the look on his face, who could resist that?

   “…Can’t wait,” said Len, finally.

   “You won’t have to.”

   Barry was true to his word to a dreadful extent. One blink of an eye, and the city was gone. The scent of an urban evening was suddenly bereft of from under his nose and replaced by a whiff of briny haze. Unfolded before them was a deserted beach with the crashing of waves scattering the pale moonshine. He had not expected the trip to progress so freaking fleetly, and on top of that, he really had not foreseen the Flash giving him a lift at all. Len was certain he experienced a low-key blackout merged with absurd motion sickness and the atypical sensation of all the organs in his body being ironed flat and scathed all under a second, thanks to Barry fucking Allen. It was a nice first long distance speed-travel.

   “I thought you’d----LEN! Your fur!!!” Barry yelling mid-sentence nearly made him jump out of his skin. Len was about to wonder ‘ _My fur..?’_ when Barry started beating the crap out of his parka’s hood. It was then he realized it was on fire.

   “Shit!”

   And it took a few more seconds of tapping and flapping before the ravenous flame eventually gave in. Unfortunately, at the expense of the poor fluff.

   “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I forgot about the problem of things burning up and your thing was so flammable.” It was amusing to watch this kid make such a fuss over some fuzz. The more Len got to know Barry, the more awkwardly unfathomable he got.

   “Drop it, I have another one,” Len shrugged it off but noticed that Barry’s eyes widened sparkling.

   “You have another one of this jacket?”

   “Yes, but----.”

   “So this _is_ like your supervillain suit, then. Do you have a secret closet full of the identical set?”

   Len rolled his eyes. This type of conversation was what usually had happened before Barry decided to turn all homme fatal and Len stopped trying to swat him away like a gnat. He never necessarily loathed it, though, like he didn’t right now. In fact, he found it winsome but as for the moment, an explanation was kind of in direr need.

   “I appreciate your interest in my wardrobe, but would you care to explain where this is and what you have in mind?” Len turned to see Barry’s face. Somehow it felt as if the enticing, enigmatic atmosphere of the speedster dissolved away the moment they arrived at the seashore. With the observant eyes that he’d gained over the years of living as a class A thief, Len thought he could get a peek into a genuine, natural (not to mention cute) side of Barry, which was what most of his friends and family were probably used to knowing him for. The delighted smile candidly displayed on his face spoke for itself.

   “Right,” Barry cleared his throat. “We’re on the outskirts of Central City and I just thought you might like the ocean. In winter. In the evening.”

   Maybe it was Barry’s wild guess, having something to do with Len’s fixation on the ‘cold’ and ‘ice’ theme, but the winter sea was as a matter of fact on the short list of his favorite things. As warm never suited him, the sorrow and deadly boundlessness of frosty tides did magic to fill the void his family left him. This ocean was not the sort, like a spring or summer one, to embrace him or offer hope and sunshine and all that bullshit, but it did the one thing that really mattered; it wept with him.

   Barry studied Len’s expression and he even looked anxious when the response didn’t come as quickly as anticipated. “Wrong choice?” He bit his lip nervously.

   “No,” Len replied in a calm voice. “The best.” A relieved smile washed over Barry’s face just as the next wave shattered on the shore. However, Len frowned concernedly at the sight of the boy’s bloodless hands clenched and ever so slightly shaking. Even in the dark, he could see that the pinkish shade on Barry’s cheeks was now turned dangerously rosy. The beach at night was beyond cold. If anything, it was definitely colder than it was in the middle of a city. And Len could not stand the speedster catching a cold on account of him, no pun intended.

   “Look, Scarlet. I adore the gift, but it won’t be worth it if this date leaves you coughing and sniffling.” Len was genuinely startled at the amount of worry weaved into his speech. He’d never been concerned about anyone except for his sister, so this was fresh. So this time, he gave in to the desire to enfold the kid in the residue of his warmth and took off his parka. He didn’t plan on watching Barry shivering and perhaps a part of him was curious as to how the younger would look in his outfit----all buried and snug. Barry took a step back when he realized what Len was trying to do.

   “I-It’s fine. You know I don’t get sick easily and I heal fa----”

   “Shut up,” Len snapped as he helped him do so, by enclosing Barry in his ‘supervillain suit’ and curtaining his face with the hood. Although the fur was partially charred, thankfully it wasn’t too pathetic.

   Barry cautiously lifted the hood just enough for him to look at Len in the eye. “…Thanks?” Len honestly hoped his grin didn’t appear overly manic in this lighting. Being a criminal made things even more complicated.

   “My pleasure. Now, how about we have a decent walk,” suggested Len, grabbing the hollow and uninhabited arm of his parka. The speedster adjusted the clothing before following his lead.

   “Yeah, and actually, there’s a restaurant up ahead that I really like. It has a great view of the ocean.”

   “Ah, the way to spend an evening. Reveling in viand, reveling in beauty,” Len chuckled. Beauty did not necessarily refer to the ocean alone. “But you’re saying you’re going in with your costume on? I thought I was the only one with the privilege of knowing who’s under that mask,” He was truly puzzled.

   “You are. I’m going to change, of course,” said Barry. Len checked twice for any sign of a bag or hidden garment, but there were none. He got even more confused. Barry noticed the bewilderment on Len’s face and chortled. “I manage to do it all the time and it’s a little secret of mine.” Damn, he felt sorry for not having superspeed for the first time…in many ways.

   The two walked on in the dim-lit seaside, headed for the cluster of lights a few hundred yards away. With the humming of the ocean playing in the background, Len felt more intimate with Barry than he ever had; not physically, but mentally and that was clearly something. To be frank, the peculiarity of their relationship was anything but resolved. Really, it was even more addled. Len treasured the moment nevertheless because it was probably the one good thing that had happened to him of late. Fuck it, he could even hurl the imminent museum heist away into who knows what for dates like this. And it had only begun.

 

**~~~~~**

 

   Real yet surreal.

   That was the only way to describe dinner with the angel of a speedster. Other times, Len illustrated Barry inwardly as an incubus (or maybe succubus?), but tonight what he saw was an angel; the sunshiny, flustered and innocuous CSI golden boy that everyone else knew. Len was not even aware of what was filling his stomach because he was too occupied staring at this harmless nerd and wondering if this was a twin after all. What made Barry Allen suddenly open his fluffy aspect to him was a mystery. Still, the food was on point that he even offered to pay for it----which quite scared the kid, almost.

   They were strolling through an alley back into the city for it was seriously needed, and to add, Len was desperate for an excuse to have Barry stay by his side a bit longer. But the trip back was notably long compared to the split second-travel there, so his clock now indicated it was nearing eleven.

   Yet that provided no explanation of why this particular street was as uncannily bleak as it was. Not even one vagrant let alone a sober civilian was present and the absence was so eerie that he involuntarily put himself on alert, without knowing exactly why. Outwardly, they were carrying on with a casual talk but all his senses were as tensed as a string seconds away from snapping. Len shot a glance at Barry and marveled at his obliviousness. _Kid,_ you’re _supposed to be the guardian angel_.

   “…and so I was forced to watch _The Godfather_ with Cisco for the fifth time,” Barry chattered on about his trivial episodes in his life that would have intrigued him greatly if it wasn’t for this ominous intuition eating away at his brain.

   “Hm,” Len responded halfheartedly without meaning to. Barry noticed the change and the merry expression quickly dissipated.

   “Len, is something wrong?”

   “No, I mean, yes----or no. Something just doesn’t feel right, but I could be wrong,” Len confessed, muddled about the entire deal and setting.

   Then it happened. A chill ran down his spine.

   “Trust me, you’re not.”

   A voice bellowed. A familiar, despicable, and unwelcome voice.

   Len and Barry abruptly turned toward the source of the sound…and as Len had expected, it was….

   “Sam Scudder,” Len growled. Barry looked back and forth between the two men like there couldn’t possibly be a more baffling situation. He couldn’t blame him; Scudder was his ally-turned-enemy who had gone missing shortly after the particle accelerator explosion. Len didn’t give a fuck about his disappearance and had gladly tucked his entire presence in the dark ever since, but here he was, in one piece and looking prepared to wreck his life. But Len could not bear Barry getting involved in his mess.

   “Leonard Snart,” Scudder hummed. “Or do you go by _Captain Cold_ these days?”

   The jeer in his question was enough. Len instinctively reached for his cold gun at his side but was greeted by nothingness. Fuck, he had left it at his apartment before going out to meet Barry without thought. Frustration built up in his mind; he was defenseless _and_ without a means to attack. To aggravate matters, there was Barry----without his suit on----to worry about.

   “Looking for this?” Held up in his right hand was a cold gun. _His_ cold gun. _How the fuck did that end up in that bastard’s hands?_ It could mean only one thing: Scudder had paid a visit to his home. Shit was really going down.

   “Funny how tables have turned. I remember you slamming the muzzle to my head, ready to plant a bullet in it,” Scudder recounted, slowly advancing on them.

   “Pity I didn’t,” Len coolly stated. Despite him keeping a perfectly maintained composure, half of his brain was briskly working on a plan to shield Barry if necessary. It was dangerous for the boy to reveal his identity or ability to this man, and it was surely hazardous for him to be standing around, too.

   “Pity you _couldn’t_ ,” Scudder corrected him. “I have to thank you, for that. You may have made who we are now.”

   That comment left him confused more than ever. Thank for _what_? Who’s _we_?

   “Hello, Snart.” Another recognizable voice of a woman rang from the behind. Len knew who it was before he saw the new intruder. Rosa Dillon. “And whoever you are that’s tagging along. It doesn’t matter, you’ll die anyway, although you are kind of cute.”

   Before Len or Barry even had time to react, the strangest sensation assailed them----Len couldn’t tell the sky and the ground apart or where they even started or met, and for goodness’ sake, the buildings around them appeared to have readjusted their positions in order to flatten and atomize him. Len witnessed Barry helplessly stumbling to his knees while he himself was striving with all his will to not lose balance. He thought Scudder and Dillon’s triumphant faces flashed several times across his view. For all he knew, the nefarious couple had acquired some vexing metahuman powers that initiated this crippling vertigo, but what good was that information now? His, and Barry’s, world turned upside down---- _literally_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot if Barry could catch a cold at all but since this is my fic the rules will be in my hands
> 
> Thanks to anyone who reads this or even waited?? for ch3 because you give me life and motivation. You will succeed in everything you do and this is a karma you won't be able to avoid:)
> 
> Please leave any ideas or encouragements in the comments below if any but I don't appreciate hate comments thank you very much


	4. Out the Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation with the Mirror Master and Top-  
> Both Len and Barry's lives are on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to be back with a YET LONGER CHAPTER  
> It's been a while since I watched S1 so all the order of events is jumbled up like...when Barry learned phasing or when the name Reverse Flash came to be etc etc so just bear with me okay? This is just a fic lol

   He didn’t realize that he’d hit the ground until he felt a sharp pang blemishing his knees. Even the pain felt distant and distorted in the current world swiveling and twisting around him, _beneath_ him. Barry wondered if this was what it would feel like if his semicircular canals were to be compromised, but on second thought, his _entire_ head had to be fucked up to have him see and feel things this way and honestly, this was one of the worst metahuman abilities he had come across. Barry knew it wasn’t the earth going nuts, but him. Only a few seconds passed and the overwhelming dizziness was already prodding the superb meal he had not long ago which now felt not so superb. He struggled with all his might to stay sane.

   Whatever had happened between Len and the next level Bonnie & Clyde, the valley of enmity separating them was doubtlessly deep as hell. Not even metaphorically. Out of the corner of his eye, Barry caught a glimpse of the very man who had unintentionally whisked him into this agitating situation standing ( _how the hell was he still on his feet??_ ), but even that image warped into something incomprehensible by sensible human eyes as soon as it fell into his retina. So it appeared that Len didn’t bring along his stupid supergun. Barry couldn’t possibly use his speed if he wanted to. Of course, he wasn’t granted one damn perfect day.

   Barry was rolling on the ground, trying his best not to end up being sprawled when a rough hand gripped the back of his shirt collar and yanked him. The sudden movement threw him off guard. Barry gasped surprised and reached for the hand dragging him but his attempts were totally futile; his confused hands were clawing at the air. Scudder or whatever his evil name was certainly did not invest in ensuring Barry’s comfort. He was scraped against the asphalt a few more feet before being shoved back down. The back of his head smacked on the ground and it hurt like hell was throwing a fucking party inside his skull. Barry made a mental note to punch the crap out of Scudder’s face as soon as he saw the chance. That is, _if_ he had a chance. Right now things were not looking so auspicious. The woman said herself that Barry was going to be murdered anyway.

   “So, ’s this your new pet, Snart?” Scudder bellowed, probably pointing at Barry. Barry was not sure if Len could even see where this bastard was pointing, but he decided all the same to muster all his strength to lunge at the man from his absurd position.

   However, Scudder grabbed his wrist before Barry could reach him. The grip was so tight he let a little cry of pain leave his mouth. “Ooh, look, he bites,” Scudder snickered. “Some dangerous pup you got here.”

   “Let go!” Barry yelled as he tried to free himself from the grasp. He heard the woman giggling by his side (or was it?) as if she found any of this amusing.

   “Let him _go_ , Scudder,” Len growled from a distance. His voice was almost like a rumble, Barry noticed, like a distant roll of thunder before a storm, and nothing like what he’d heard from Len’s Captain Cold persona. It was a tone lower, far more menacing, and controlled yet on the verge of _not_. Len was dead serious.

   Scudder scoffed like he wasn’t intimidated in the least, but eventually unclasped his fingers from Barry’s wrist. The white finger marks on his skin slowly flushed red. Dropping to the ground, it immediately occurred to Barry that Len’s cold fury radiating off him had an effect on this guy. And that fury had surfaced because of _him_. Len was angry for _him_. Even when he was barely managing to stand on two feet. It was not the best time to savor that thought romantically but Barry could not stop a butterfly from wildly flailing about in his stomach. _Digest it_ , he thought.

   “Damn, you seem to be fond of him as hell. Last time I’ve seen you that angry, it was ‘bout your sister,” the admiration was real. Barry wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or remorseful.

   “Ugh, that insufferable bitch,” the girl mumbled as a comment loudly enough for everyone present to hear. At this point, Barry was closing his eyes because that lessened the vertigo seeping more and more deeply into his mind, since there was no need to take in the scenery of the freakish reality laid out like under a kaleidoscope. The voices still reverbed from the most random directions. It was like the cochleae in his ears were flipping, too.

   “Dare talk about Lisa like that again, and you won’t have a mouth to talk with, Dillon,” Len warned. Okay, so Bonnie’s actual name was Dillon.

   “You are in no position to threaten Rosa, Snart.” ( _So Rosa Dillon._ ) Scudder’s voice was a pitch higher from exasperation. Barry figured they were in some kind of romantic relationship. “In case you forgot, _we_ have the upper hand here. Unless the----what was it? Right, _the_ _Flash_ zips by to save your ass.” Barry almost choked out a laughter but caught it in his throat at the last second. _I’m sorry, but the Flash is kind of occupied at the moment._

   “Seems like you were having all the fun while we were away, suffering,” Rosa blamed. “Playing a supervillain, rampaging about like this city’s yours, and even _saving_ a ‘hero’…Hell, you’re not even a meta yet you get all the fun.” There was nothing fun about any of those on the list on his part but Barry remained silent. He was trying to devise a way to terminate the danger, hopefully apprehending the malicious duo of vengeance but there was nothing he could do without access to the force of his speed. There was something about the crippling vertigo effect that addled his ability to summon superspeed and it was utterly frustrating. He’d often felt like a sack of nothing without his superpowers, and that’s how he exactly felt at this moment. A helpless, good-for-nothing forensic scientist under that particular circumstance where his non-super expertise proved perfectly useless and only added to the reason why his existence was a fucking heck of a burden for Len. Wow. Since when have CSIs been useful to thieves, anyway?

   “It’s not my fault for you two missing out on all the ‘fun’,” Len pointed out bluntly. Barry mentally lauded the man for keeping the cool as he did although they were likely to be killed in the next few minutes. Not that Barry was planning on it.

   “Ha, wanna guess what kept us busy all that time?” Rosa asked. There was a faint echo of hurt entwined in that question somewhere.

   “Hmm…How about, _I don’t give a damn_?” Fucking savage. Barry loved it.

   Scudder ranted on about their past few months, disregarding Len’s clear statement of disinterest. “I was stuck in a fucking mirror, Snart. _Inside_. Apparently, the explosion gave me this handy ability to travel through reflection, but before I even figured that part of the shit out, I lost months of my life being trapped inside a fucking mi----,” his words were drowned out by the boisterous laughter Len obviously leaked on purpose. On Scudder’s complexion was evident an expression that was a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and anger. “What could you possibly find funny about this?” Even Barry felt a bit anxious because Len cracking up wasn’t going to contribute to the prolongation of their considerably shortened life span.

   “You were trapped in a _mirror_ ,” Len repeated after he calmed down a little. Did the vertigo jinx come with a drunkenness side effect, or what? “Let me guess, the mirror fell _face-down_. That’s why you couldn’t get out,” Len remarked and then chuckled again. Sensing that Scudder was unable to object to that, Barry assumed it was what really had happened. It sucked, and it _was_ kind of ridiculous.

   “I’m guessing you don’t see how appalling it is to be confined, given that you’ve never served even a quarter of your many sentences.” Scudder’s trembling growl was laced with flaring animosity. Surely, it could not feel great to be mocked and laughed at for being trapped for months. Barry, though, felt little to no compassion toward this man.

   “Compliment appreciated,” Len remarked. Even though Barry couldn’t see it, he could feel that Len was wearing that cheeky smirk he had been accustomed to seeing, even adopting into his own collection of expressions. _Nice, Len, but now of all times, really?_

   “We’re not praising you, Snart. I’ve been cast away in Iron Heights until Sam came to free me and trust me, if we two have something in common, it’s that we both stayed very much awake imagining how to end your miserable life as soon as the opportunity arose in our favor,” Rosa venomously snapped.

   “And that opportunity _has_ risen at last. Merrily enough, along with a cherry to add on top.” It took a moment for Barry to realize that Scudder was actually referring to _him_ when he mentioned cherry. The unsettling anticipation turned his heart to lead and Barry started to feel sick. There had to be a way to handle this situation, a way to deal with these bloodthirsty hounds and contact STAR Labs. These criminals didn’t even come close to the Reverse Flash in terms of the magnitude so it would hurt his self-esteem if he were to be defeated by them, never mind terrify him of an unexpected end of life when he had so much more to do and people to protect. Plus, the thing going on between Len and Barry. It was just so _rude_ of these old enemies to wring in at the worst time possible

   “You wish,” there was a noticeable change in Len’s tone. The snarl was still intimidating, but Barry could spot desperation in it. Time was running out.

   “No, not ‘wish’,” Scudder pondered. “ _Will_.” He sounded much more relaxed now, like toying with the prey before a feast.

   Barry was taking in the fact that the crippling vertigo was slowly subsiding after reaching its culminating point. Not for long, because the rough hand that had grabbed him by the back of his collar returned this time to grip him by the neck. He choked as he was pulled up to his feet. Then he heard the familiar noise of the cold gun whirring to life---- _so_ not a good sign. Scudder readjusted their position so that he could secure Barry in a more comfortable way (to stick the gun to his head but whatever) by turning the speedster around, probably facing Len, and fixing his left arm around his neck. Barry could hear both the bastard’s breaths and the hum of the cold gun near his ears. Far from the best combination. He winced as the muzzle of the gun was pressed into his head. _Cold_.

   By this time, the effect had diminished and he could see Len staggering about ten feet away from them. Len blinked and narrowed his eyes in his direction…and then widened his eyes at the sight. Barry shared whatever though Len was having and gulped nervously. He _could_ use his speed, but since he could _n’t_ outrun the blast from the cold gun, he was highly doubtful dodging it while the gun was practically enfolding the right side of his face, was possible. To add, he really didn’t like the idea of this lovely couple finding out his identity.

   Rosa Dillon laughed. “It’s almost _cute_ how you’re worried about this…what’s your name, honey?” Barry did not answer. He didn’t exactly feel compelled to reply to his future murderer.

   However, Scudder was not happy about his girlfriend’s question going ignored. He shoved the gun into his head to which Barry let out a hiss. “Answer her damn question.”

   He barely caught himself before rolling his eyes and then said, “Barry.” He was not in the position to push his luck.

   “ _Barry_ ,” Rosa repeated, content. Then she turned to Len. “Snart, I’m not judging your taste, but you really don’t deserve handsome young boys like Barry here. More so when he’s going through this because of _you_.”

   The cool atmosphere surrounding Len was deteriorating bits by bits. “Leave him alone. This is between us, not Barry.” Len cautiously took a step forward. There he was, the infamous villain of Central City; Captain freaking Cold, who had tried multiple times to turn Barry into an icicle (and gladly so!) and hurt many of his friends, pleading to leave Barry out of this revenge drama with worry written all over his face. Who would have fucking known the Flash could one day end up being held hostage because of Leonard Snart?!

   “No, Barry will play his role. I thought about killing him right now, but that’d be too cliché,” Scudder carefully spoke.

   “My death is all you want. Be done with it but let Barry go.” Wow. Barry looked at Len’s firm gaze in awe. He was willing to lay down his life for him, or at least, was willing to say it.

   “Shut up, Len. I won’t let that happen,” he struggled against Scudder’s grip as he said so. Of course not! No one was going to die tonight. He could definitely think of something, he could definitely take care of the situation and save the day like he did always. He was the _Flash_! If only he could get the suit which was lying in his apartment right now…(yes, he’d changed there with his superspeed before entering that restaurant which now felt like had happened a million years ago)

   “We’ll see about that,” Scudder purred into his ear. Barry frowned. All of a sudden, Scudder started walking toward a building next to them, forcing Barry with him. The building’s exterior was entirely made of glass so Barry could see everyone’s reflection, including his tensed self, colorlessly drawn on its surface. He remembered Scudder saying something about his power to travel through reflections but was not certain what it meant yet.

   “What the hell are you doing?” Barry was about to ask the same thing. Len was alarmed and looked ready to charge if necessary. Rosa laughed with her arms crossed.

   “Watch, Snart. It’s really neat.”

   Fuck, it was anything but neat. Barry felt the most eccentric sensation sparking down from his head to toe as he—as he _passed through_ the glass. When Scudder threw himself against the wall with Barry, he half expected them to crash into it, earning bumps for their foreheads and maybe cracking the material a little. But possibly to his relief, the collision didn’t come. Instead, Barry was left with the outlandish feeling tingling on his skin and lingering in his stomach for the next few moments. His eyes fluttered open after having been squeezed shut from expecting a hit, to find himself not quite on the other side of the glass but… _inside_ the glass. The left and right of the outside world were reversed and while that probably should not have brought that much apprehension and sense of odd disharmony to him, it did. Everything, including Len, was in plain sight, but he wasn’t able to reach out. He wasn’t able to get out. There was an inexplicable wall invisibly blocking his interaction with the opposite reality. And it had him absolutely _terrified_.

   Scudder must have left as soon as he had ‘locked’ Barry in the reflection because he was seen casually making his way back to Rosa Dillon’s side. Which meant Barry could not expect to break out and help Len as much as he wanted to. His mind turned blank.

   “Hey!” Barry shouted, pounding against the glass. Scudder shot him a glance, looking amused. Len looked totally baffled but enraged at the same time. He alternated his gaze between Barry and Scudder like he wanted an explanation but also wanted to beat the shit out of the other man. “Let me out!” Strangely, he got a very puzzled look from Len as a response.

   “What have you done to Barry? Why isn’t he making sense?” Len demanded. He took several bold steps toward Scudder and Dillon despite the cold gun aimed straight at his heart.

 _What the hell?_ Barry thought. _What does he mean I’m not making sense?_

   “You know how mirrors work. They show the reverse of everything,” Scudder adjusted his hold on the gun. Hell, Barry was fed up with reverse anything these days.

   “You trapped Barry in that glass wall and even his words are unintelligible,” Len clarified. Shit, it could only mean that he was speaking backwards from their side of the glass. So body language was the only means of useful communication. On the bright side, the speech from the other side was still understandable to him. At least he could keep up with the situation and handle things accordingly, should he be given a chance. No, he had to _make_ the chances.

   “Yes, but no harm has been done to him…yet. If you want to keep it that way, I suggest you listen to us, ‘Captain Cold’,” Scudder snickered, rolling that name like he was savoring it. Barry felt the urge to punch him, not for the first time.

   Len stayed still, eyeing Scudder and Dillon with more loathing packed in his blue eyes than Barry had ever seen before. He finally understood what ‘shooting daggers’ at someone meant. Imagining receiving that fiery gaze ran shivers down his spine. If he survived through this, Barry was never going to put himself in a position to meet that death stare. Even the cold gun was better than that.

   Nevertheless, reluctance eventually found its way after tearing down the wall of hatred in Len. Barry watched anxiously as Len sighed and curtly said, “What do you want?” Gosh, Barry wanted to bash his head on the glass for being such a useless moron.

   “What do you think, Rosa?” Scudder asked, not taking his eyes off Len. Rosa stepped closer to the man and laid her hand on his shoulder rather affectionately.

   “His name speaks for itself,” she cooed. “Captain Cold should freeze himself.”

   Barry’s brain froze at that suggestion. No, he was not going to stand around and watch while Len glaciated himself. The sheer thought of that was abhorrent. Now he didn’t give a fuck about exposing his secret status in front of these two anymore. He was going to use his powers to get his shit together and whisk himself and Len away from the site. Barry immediately rested his hand on the surface of the invisible wall and closed his eyes, concentrating. Dr. Wells had taught him how to do this. _‘Phasing’_. Surely he could use this fascinating ability to cross the unseen border and return to the correct side of reality. He focused more than ever until all the molecules in his body were vibrating, moving in erratic yet organized formation; the space between each molecule far enough to let him pass through this thin wall of----

   It didn’t work.

   Panic built up in Barry’s heart. He tried again. It still didn’t work.

   “Perfect, darling. Just what we need,” he heard Scudder snigger.

 _Fuck you_ , Barry cursed mentally. He was kind of saying that to Scudder, the glass, and himself simultaneously. Why didn’t it work? Was he doing it the wrong way? Or was this glass somehow different?

 _Think, think, think_ , Barry reprimanded himself. _It’s time to use your goddamn scientific knowledge._ He tried. He had no time to lose. When he quickly glanced up to see what was going on, Scudder was lowering Len’s gun to turn it around and hand it to him.

   “You really think giving back my gun is a good idea?” Len smirked. For fuck’s sake, unless Len had some secret crazy metahuman ability to sweep the both of them out of this situation, Barry couldn’t see how he was being that nonchalant and undaunted.

   “We have your pretty boy captive. You try anything funny, I’m going to shoot that glass which means bye-bye your boyfriend (Barry noticed Len about to protest to that title but shutting his mouth). And if you shoot us, Barry’s only key out of the glass would be gone,” Scudder replied triumphantly.

   “Or I could ice your girlfriend’s hand off and demand you bring Barry back,” Len offered.

   Scudder fumed with ire at that suggestion. “ _Like I said_ , Snart. I’ll shoot the glass.”

   Barry went back to burying his head in his hands, trying to think of a solution. Calling STAR Labs now was not going to be of any use at this point. To add, he wasn’t sure if his cell would even work from where he was. He inhaled and exhaled a few times, trying to think of a more sensible step to wade through this mess. Science.

   Why didn’t phasing work? If Scudder used this glass as a sort of wormhole, then its molecules had to be in a hyper state of flux, so what he needed was something really cold to slow them down. He needed the mirror to maintain zero point energy long enough for his molecules to pass through it. At once, he thought of the cold gun. It was designed to shoot flames reaching absolute zero. It had to be more than enough. _Hell, yes!_ Scudder was even willingly handing it to Len. Barry thought the goddess of luck was finally on their side for once.

   Wait, but he had to account for the internal energy of the mirror's molecules as well. So while absolute cold might be the lowest possible temperature, it was probably not the lowest enthalpy state possible. Fuck, things were complicated. There wasn’t any time for complicated!

   Barry furrowed his brows, slamming his fist against the glass in distress. The sudden eruption of noise drew everyone’s attention to him. Scudder and Dillon merely gave him a split-second gaze, scoffing. Len’s eyes lingered longer than the both of theirs. The cold gun was back in his hand. Barry saw Len; looking complete with the stupid blue parka on and the illuminated gun by his side. Well, the goggles were missing but they weren’t that important anyway, because they blocked his ocean-like eyes. But the thing was that Len was about to be forced to commit suicide in front of him. Barry was desperate. Before Len’s unreadable gaze lifted, he made his hand into the shape of a gun and uneasily tapped on the glass, hoping Len would understand what it meant. He saw him squinting his eyes in confusion but soon, a subtle expression of realization suffused on his face. _Yes, yes._ Len understood what he meant. Even though the possibility of this succeeding was substantially low, it was their only chance as of now. Scudder and Dillon seemed unaware of the silent communication that had passed between them.

   “I need you to guarantee that Barry will be set free, unharmed and safe after all of this, Scudder,” Len warned.

   “Oh, please. I promise,” Scudder rolled his eyes.

   “I don’t trust you. Make it believable,” Len demanded.

   “Fine. I swear on Rosa. And all the riches in Central City. Fuck, you don’t really have a choice here, Snart. Get on with it and don’t throw a fit about your damn boy’s safety. Yes, all we want is your death, not some random civilian’s corpse.”

   Len presented the man another round of that death stare but did not say anything in protest. He then raised his gun slightly from his side, like he was pondering where to point it at. Honestly, even though Barry knew he wasn’t going to pull the trigger, it was aching to watch the sight. The two of them had gone through so much more than he would ever have pictured----not just as enemies but recently as…something undefinable. He’d been called _Scarlet_ ; such a cheesy choice, but it melted his heart like a warm cup of hot chocolate did anyway. The close call he had on the night of the gambler’s blind gunfire frenzy ended up being a close call only because of Len. Even the second date from a few hours ago gave him a wash of nostalgia almost; he missed being free of harrowing problems and concerns when he was with Len. That was probably because he was busy flirting and teasing the other man but what did it matter right now? It had been long since he gave up on denying his want for Leonard Snart. So it was natural he didn’t want Len to die.

   A moment or two passed. The silence in the air was deafening to his strained ears. Scudder and Dillon were fixedly staring at Len in anticipation, with their guns ready to fire should anything happen. Barry knew he only had less than half a second to break out of the glass realm. _Through the Looking-Glass_ , he thought. He had to phase out before Scudder’s bullet reached the glass. It was going to be the one and only opportunity, and if lost, the Reverse Flash would not so much be a reverse anymore without anyone to be the reverse of. Hell, succeeding was a miracle but that was all they had to count on.

   Len aimed the end of his gun under his chin, holding the hefty weapon with both his hands. The quiet save the whirring of the machine was thickening to a crescendo. A drop of sweat trickled down from Barry’s temple.

   Without a warning, Len jerked the cold gun and shot a frosty blast toward the glass wall in which Barry stood. Scudder and Dillon staggered a step back dumbfounded for a second, thankfully giving Barry more time to spare. Barry himself was internally marveling at how Len managed to carry out such action in a blink of an eye----maybe not to the Flash but----so flawlessly. But he quickly worked on phasing out. He heard a gunshot.

   Barry sensed the bullet spiraling toward his direction, but concentrated on vibrating all the molecules in his body to a certain state so as to match that of the glass’. The layer of ice, _absolute_ _zero_ , did actually have an effect in decelerating the wormhole’s molecules. Although the feeling was jarred and jagged, Barry managed to slip out of his jail just in time as the bullet pulverized the glass behind him. He rolled out of the way as the debris scattered in all direction. He had done it!

   However, the job was only half-accomplished. It was about fucking time to apprehend the odious duo.

   The first thought that came into his mind, he complied. He blurred in between Scudder and Dillon facing the man to give a full goddamn blow to the bastard’s face. He probably should not have felt that much euphoria planting a raw fist into a person’s jaw, but heck, why not. Barry watched, his eyes hot (likely from lightning crackling in it) while he traced Scudder’s blood spewing out of his mouth in slow motion. He didn’t bother to stop and think he probably seemed like a maniac at that precise moment.

   “ _Sammy!_ ” Rosa’s terrified scream came from behind. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, Barry turned to her direction. Her already pale face was even more drained of color and her eyes were widened like a wild animal’s. Then the wrath swiftly replaced the terror. Rosa’s pupils glared green.

   There it was again, the crippling vertigo, instantly sending him stumbling over his own feet. The ground bent sideways so that it was slowly making its way over to the where he presumed the sky should be----

   And then it was gone.

   Everything was back to normal. Barry realized he was on his all fours, but glanced up and noticed Rosa listless on the asphalt. Len stood over her with the butt of the cold gun at an angle that made Barry assume he’d hit the back of her neck with it. Sure enough, she was out cold (seriously?) on the ground.

   Len walked over to Barry. Barry awkwardly lifted his hands off the ground and settled on his knees.

   “Saved your life again,” Len coolly noted.

   “Are you kidding me? _I_ saved you first. We’re even this time,” Barry protested.

   Then a metallic click of a pistol being loaded echoed behind his back.

   “ _Fla_ \----,”

   A weighty kick from Len, and Sam Scudder was down.

   “Shh,” shushed Len. Barry was 100% sure Len’s intention was to complete what Scudder was about to say.

   Len held out his unoccupied hand for Barry to hold. When he did, he helped the speedster to his feet. “ _Are_ we even, now?” Barry pursed his lips, annoyed. A minute ago, they were performing a tightrope walking of imminent life and death situation, but now they were bantering. But of course, Barry was relieved beyond expression.

   After a few seconds of looking into Len’s wintry eyes and trying to find the right words to say, Barry just gave in to his wish to fall into the man’s arms. Fuck, he had thought this man, with an awfully hot body for his title, and a very healthily pulsating heart, was going to die only minutes before. It was a scenario he could not possibly have predicted, much less expected. But the most remarkable thing he had learned was; Len was _willing_ to sacrifice himself for Barry. He already knew Len was fond of him, adored him even, but willing to lay down his life for him was a whole another level. He would have done the same, Barry knew, but all the same, it was tremendously touching and satisfying to know that Len regarded Barry in such a special way. This incident had to be a turning point in their puzzling relationship. He did agree that _he_ was the one to make the relationship puzzling in the first place, though.

   Barry buried his face on Len’s shoulder as the cushioned arms (parka, yeah) which had been hovering over his back, gently wrapped around him. It was nice to feel Len’s sped-up heartbeat racing against his skin.

   “You _can_ do hot, after all,” Barry mumbled into the charred fur.

   “Do you mean as in my body temperature or my attractiveness?” Len chuckled into his ears.

   “Both,” Barry grinned against Len’s shoulder.

   Len inhaled a handful of air. “Scarlet,” he murmured a bit shakily. “Do you----.”

   Barry flashed away, leaving the question hanging. He smiled an evil smile five feet away from Len who was hugging the air now. A shade of irritated red shone on the man’s face as he dropped his arms to his side. His expression was screaming: _For Fucking Real_?

   “I have to get to STAR Labs,” Barry made a plausible excuse. “Need to speed these two away before they wake up.”

   Len threw his hands toward the sky in defeat. “Do your job.”

   “I always do,” Barry tugged Scudder in order to sling him over his back. He reached out to grab Rosa. It was impossible to carry two people like this if he was walking, but when the speed took over, the weight or the position didn’t appear to matter all that much.

   Barry was about to sprint off, facing the opposite side of Len, but at the last second, he turned back to meet the other man’s disappointed eyes. When he did not say anything for quite a long time, Len tilted his head questioningly. Barry finally opened his mouth.

   “But _you_ are one of my jobs, now.”

   He didn’t wait to see Len’s reaction. He simply whizzed away, because he didn’t need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was certainly fun to write what I consider as the highlight of this story. But I don't know much about writing action or battles so it was kinda hard (that's why there was little of it lol).
> 
> Anyway, comments are welcome unless they are hate comments!  
> Thank you and love you all<3


	5. Been Wishin' for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len breaks in Barry's apartment and waits for him, to settle things once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will conclude this story and I honestly cannot believe I ever finished a writing. I usually leave them unfinished so please congratulate me:)
> 
> Next chapter will be a brief (hopefully) epilogue but I still have no idea what it's gonna be like LOL
> 
> Read on to see how our boys conclude their annoying journey of love (whatever that means)  
> CHEERS!

   For one thing, Len really liked marshmallows in his hot cocoa. For another, Len really wanted to sneak into Barry’s place.

   He needed answers.

   Len took his gears (he’d learned his lesson the hard way) and shot out from his lair the moment he realized he was out of those fluffy sugar sponges. He marched toward the CSI’s home on impulse for that one damn cup of steaming perfection but obviously, the primary objective was to freak the kid out and take root in the place until the sly hero relented. Barry usually left work at 7 pm so he had ample time to ‘make himself at home’.

   The apartment was not all that humongous, but for a 25-year-old, it was fairly spacious and well-decorated. Len presumed Barry was the frugal type to save money and cut down expenses on superfluous extravagance. He used to regard those kinds as foolish; why take the tedious route when there was a shortcut, a.k.a. stealing? Now, he did not know what to make of that opinion. It wasn’t like he was able to convince Barry into becoming his partner in theft. The thought had actually crossed his mind, with Barry having such a wieldy ability and all, but that was about it. Imagine a CSI investigating his own crime…

   Everything was so full of Barry if that made any sense. The scent, the wallpaper, the slight untidiness, and even the way the furniture was arranged were like windows to the speedster’s being as a whole. But they were nowhere near the ‘sexy’ side he was sickeningly familiar with. It was hard to believe, but Len had somehow unlocked a secret feature within Barry just by being Captain Cold. He wondered how his family and friends would react if they were to be enlightened of this Hyde aspect of their treasured cinnamon roll. Len chuckled as he brushed his fingers over the framed picture of Barry and his best friend----sister, whatever----Iris smiling like two rays of summer sunshine. The subtle smile faded a bit as his attention drifted across it very slowly, and he sensed jealousy lightly tugging at his heart before it was banished immediately. What the hell was he doing, being envious of Barry’s _family_? Disgusting! Len frowned, backing away.

   Admiring the Barry Allen exhibition was absolutely fascinating, but he was not going to be even more disrespectful (although he wasn’t sure if that even counted at this point) by further rummaging through the house. Besides, it was already ten minutes past 7. Len easily made himself a perfect drink with plenty of marshmallows. The kid had good resources, good taste. A man knew the person was reliable if he had cocoa powder and marshmallows in his cupboard.

   He ensconced himself in the only plushy armchair in the place, which was conveniently facing the door. Len sipped the hot chocolate while waiting for the speedster to arrive.

* * *

 

   The metallic ring of a key fitting into the keyhole snapped Len out of his daydreams. Shortly after the sound, the door creaked open with a jarring noise. Len had been kind enough to lock the door after he had broken in with no difficulty because he wanted Barry to be unaware of the intrusion until the last moment. He wanted this to be a surprise even when it already was. Where did that theatrical shit even come from? Oh wait, he was _always_ the theatrical villain all along.

   Aaaand, the next sequence of events was a masterpiece. Len wished he could capture the moments in a video----from how Barry froze like a deer in the headlights with wide eyes and hair all damp from the snow outside, to how he banged the door close right after their initial eye contact only to open it once again to storm inside his home like a hurtling wave and gape at Len’s cool figure like he was seeing a phantom. All within fifteen seconds. Without a word.

   “What the actual _fuck_??” Barry cried at last. When he shook in disbelief, tiny droplets of water rained down on Len’s face like a cascade of mist streaming down from Barry’s body. Len did notice the umbrella lying cold and abandoned at the door, but he hadn’t thought this boy would cleave through the blizzard raging outside instead of just speeding his way here.

   “You look like a melting snowman,” Len couldn’t keep himself from saying that. He took a sip from his mug. Well, Barry’s mug.

   “This is unbelievable. Where did you even find that cup? I hid it because it’s my favorite!” Barry exclaimed, aghast, but he didn’t take it away.

   “Completely coincidental,” he took a look at what he was holding in his hands with sudden interest. Red suited Barry well after all. “You’re not professional at hiding things, Scarlet,” he commented. The cup had been just lying in the far back of the cupboard, hardly close to what one would claim ‘hidden’.

   “Yeah, and you’re not very professional at paying a _normal_ visit to a person,” Barry countered. _Look who’s talking_ , Len thought, although he didn’t say it out loud.

   While the thief watched intrigued, Barry put his hand on his forehead as if he had a headache and restlessly paced in a jagged manner. Then, without a word, he set his bag down on the floor and spun around to enter a room to the left, but stopped midway and turned to Len’s direction. It looked like he was in a mini-dilemma.

   “Feel free to speak,” suggested Len.

   “I’m…I’m soaked. Yeah, I brought it upon myself but I can’t deal with you like this if you’re going to stay for who knows how long, so…,” he faltered, eyes darting elsewhere.

   “So?” Len tilted his head even though he knew what the speedster was planning to do. It was absolutely spectacular to be the one to tease the other for a change. Awkward, adorable Barry was so much fun.

   “I’m going to take a shower and change. In the meantime, by all means go ahead and steal all my cash, ‘cause nothing in here is more expensive than whatever it was that you last stole for fun,” and then Barry was gone inside the room in a flash, even without using his speed. This was beautiful. The speedster had invested so much time and effort to exude such an enticing sexual air, and it had worked all right----probably too well----on Len, but right now he was blabbering and hesitating to say he needed to take a damn shower after having been drenched in a freaking snowstorm howling outside. Perhaps it was due to Len’s one hell of an unexpected visit that Barry was gabbling and hazily hemming and hawing like a light bulb flickering on and off.

   Len stood up from his seat after finishing the last drop of his drink as he found blankly sitting there quite humdrum. He would wash the mug because breaking in Barry’s safe haven _and_ leaving his trail there would be a churlish thing to do, not to mention the mug being none other than the boy’s favorite. How considerate was he for a criminal?

   The answer was: remarkably, though only for the Scarlet Speedster.

   His lips slightly curled up into an insuppressible smile when he heard the faint sound of water being turned on. It was overly distracting. Len could not control his brain from wildly forming highly inappropriate images inside his head in spite of the arduous tries to dispel them. Maybe Barry was right to be nervous to say he needed to wash. Len tried to rub off the perverted thoughts reflecting on his face as he put the now pristine-looking mug back into its original spot. It didn’t really work. Any thought of Barry was just too tempting for him, and as for what was swarming in his mind…it wasn’t the kind that could be dismissed easily, for any human being. He might as well shut that part of the mind.

   Turning around, Len had no idea what to do. So he decided to take another thorough look around the decent little dwelling. Barry had basically given him permission to stay; he could do that much and it wouldn’t be considered too uncouth of a thing to do since there was nothing else to occupy him.

   The home itself was a representation of who this boy was. Len knew, although not through a process he chose with a clear conscience, that it hasn’t been long since Barry moved out from the Wests’ house, in which he had spent 14 years of his life (it was more than half of the kid’s life so far, and god, that made him feel old). Still, what filled this apartment was like a compact scrapbook version of the speedster’s history and being. Young, cheerful, bright, and pure…with a barely noticeable shade of darkness underlying beneath all that sugary happiness. But the difference between Len and Barry lay _there_. Both of them had experienced in their young age something far more appalling than what the majority of people would undergo in their lives, but while Len had turned to the other side of the law to cope with it, Barry _stuck_ to the law. Len suddenly felt the nearly forgotten wall that separated his world from Barry’s thickening to let known its presence. This situation, this idea and this kindled feeling inside his heart was seriously convoluted stuff. Fuck, the cold flame had grown into a size of a wildfire but now it was more than just an ephemeral blaze doomed to be extinguished in time. But there was a silent voice niggling at the back of his head that _this wasn’t right. He didn’t deserve Barry._

   Len roamed the room, his external demeanor placid, contrary to the perturbed mind inside where emotions were waging a war. After a few meaningless steps, he halted in front of the picture of Barry and Iris again. This time, he picked it up and examined it. Barry’s smile was so golden and natural; it was only right to be that way around a person he adored and grew up with. _Shared_ a life with. He finally understood what the jealousy he had felt before meant. It wasn’t necessarily directed toward Iris herself, but to the capability to become a part of Barry’s life and to make him smile so gorgeously in a _genuine_ way. So far, it had happened only one time when they went on a second ‘date’ on a beach that…that did not go as planned. They seriously had the worst luck in Central City when it came to dates.

   His hands clutched the picture tight before it was set back down in its place. A new resolution bubbled up in his core.

_I don’t fucking care._

   That’s right. He didn’t. Len was going to claim a space for himself in Barry’s heart. _Fuck the wall, fuck that voice in the back of my head, fuck this hero/villain shit_ , he furiously thought. He’d come here to ask Barry in the first place. If Barry denied any kind of feelings for him, which Len was afraid of it being the case, he would put an end on all this chase but if it were otherwise, a new beginning would bring the end. It was settled, and it was going to be settled tonight.

   Carefully, Len slid the cold gun out of its holster at his side and put it away with his blue parka. He took a step back to look at the items (minus one----the goddamn goggles) sitting on a spare chair and mulled over its connotation. He did not know what was going to become of his career but at least as far as Barry was concerned, he was going to approach him as Leonard Snart, not Captain Cold. He hoped Barry would detach himself from the Flash persona in return. Well, Len was smitten with both sides of the boy but the whole point of this was to forget about the superhero and villain thing. He wanted to love Barry Allen, not just the Flash.

   “Someone’s in the clouds,” a light voice tore him away from the circulation of musings.

   Barry was standing with his arms crossed in the doorway leading into the bedroom. Len almost tripped on his own feet because of the sight----the moist strands of hair ruffled being only half dried, the rosy glow on his cheeks surfacing from having a warm shower and the glint in his eyes but most importantly; Barry clad in nothing but a white bathrobe. Okay, this boy was still inscrutable. Twenty minutes ago, he was afraid of saying ‘shower’ but he showed up in a single layer of garment?? Len’s throat parched dry.

   “Aren’t _you_ the one in the clouds?” Len gestured toward the bathrobe. It literally looked like Barry was of a celestial origin. And the thing was fluffy.

   “Don’t ever make puns, you’re horrifying,” Barry grimaced. He agreed in his mind and smirked.

   When he saw that Barry had no intention of stepping into the living room, Len made his way to the speedster himself. Barry must have been expecting the move, because he slowly walked backward into his room when Len got close enough, like beckoning him to come inside. Len obliged gladly. It stopped when Barry softly hit the wall.

   “I had a hunch something was up but didn’t know it happened to be a criminal drinking hot cocoa at my place. What brought you to my lowly dwelling?” Barry wondered.

   “Hot cocoa, obviously,” joked Len, easily enclosing Barry to the wall. “I was out of marshmallows.” Len watched amused as Barry bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. What he said, though, was true, albeit partially.

   The floor creaked mildly when Len leaned close to the speedster. The emerald eyes locked with the cerulean eyes of his own, and he left barely any space between them. It was satisfying to see Barry’s smile die, lips starting to quiver and part as if he was not entirely used to this kind of situation. Barry had always been the one to freely invade Len’s personal bubble (which he had set to three feet radius) multiple times and leave only a mirage of a kiss hanging in the air between their lips. Never had Len been the first to do so. Which was why he was so determined not to ruin this moment.

   “You said you love games, Scarlet,” Len’s tone was almost rebuking.

   “I did,” he acknowledged raising an eyebrow.

   “How exciting must it have been to watch me dance to your tune and fall every time you take it away from me,” Len’s fingertips trailed down Barry’s face, leaving tingles on the flushed skin. He was ready to take his hand away if Barry showed any sign of discomfort, but the boy merely stayed still and returned his gaze with an even fiercer intensity than his.

   “I----,”

   “Shhh…,” hushed Len. His index finger gently pressed against the speedster’s moist lips. To his pleasure, Barry complied. “You save lives, I threaten them. I never expected or deserve affection and attention that you’re giving me. I even tried to kill you, Barry. That’s why it took some time for me to realize that you were _flirting_ with me,” he briefly paused. “Guess what. You made me thirsty. And hungry. But what’s more, you made me _care_. And I’ve never cared, Scarlet, besides for my sister.”

   Barry replied with a thoughtful silence, yet his eyes were intently boring into Len’s as if he was trying to read them. He could tell the boy was absorbed into what Len was saying and that this time, he would not zip away and flee for the fun of it. So Len continued.

   “The thing is, you confuse me. That’s why I came here...to settle things once and for all,” Len whispered. His right hand returned to caress the left side of Barry’s face, gingerly securing the angle so that their eye contact would not be broken. “Tell me, Scarlet,” he cooed. “What _am_ I, to you?”

   As soon as those words left his vocal cords, Len’s heart began to race even faster than before. At the same time, due to the overwhelming proximity, he could study the subtle change in the kid’s eyes; the irises gave way to the black void as his pupils dilated, and they explored for a place to fix it upon within Len’s own face. Suddenly Len was aware of Barry’s rhythmical breaths igniting sparks of cold and warm on his skin simultaneously. It felt oddly good and sent shivers down his spine. But during the seconds of silence that had befallen them, Len was scared of the possible----Barry rejecting him. Len had little doubt about what the speedster’s thoughts for him were like, but what if he really _was_ just toying with Len? What if this want was not, and never had been, reciprocated at all? Was he simply one of many fishes in the Flash’s net?

   The anxiety washed away in a wave as a bashful smile shone on Barry’s countenance. A surge of warmth filled every nook and cranny of his body at the promising response.

   “I think you already know the answer, Len.” Barry gently took Len’s hand on his face and wrapped it around his own neck. Len put the other hand around it, too. But he thought that wasn’t enough of a reply. And he could not believe this boy was once again attempting to slyly slither away from the sought answer.

   “I want to hear it,” Len demanded.

   “Alright,” Barry giggled defeated. He then moved forward so that his lips were brushing against Len’s ear. “I have,” he said in a low whisper, “been wishing for you.” And he pulled back to look at Len in the eye. “I know it’s too fast to say this, but I want to call you my lover.”

   Len felt a frenzy of utmost bliss wrecking all levelheaded part of his brain and sending a flow of sensation very much resembling electricity all the way to his peripheral nerves. It was as if he had been allowed access to a heavenly realm made of daydream material and nothing mattered anymore. He had not known that a few words could possibly offer him ecstasy exceeding that of one gained from gems and riches because even the diamonds and Monets never presented him showers of _this_ much joy. So the grin on his face was not going anywhere for a while.

   “Nothing’s too fast for the Flash,” Len hummed.

   “Shut up,” Barry laughed. He could clearly see the red that once only covered his cheeks spreading all over his face.

   “ _Now_ , I can really call you Scarlet,” teased Len, breaking the ring around Barry’s shoulders to cup the boy’s face.

   “Damn it, Len,” Barry complained, though with a grin. “There’s only one way to shut you up.”

   “Oh really?” He took that as a challenge. “And what could it be?”

   Barry shrugged. “What lovers do,” he mumbled, before he roughly pulled Len in for a kiss.

   No, that was definitely not anticipated. He had been seeking for the perfect timing, but as his title implied, Barry was faster and more enthusiastic than he thought. The stiffness in Len from the astonishment quickly dissipated as he immediately returned the young hero’s passion with his own. It didn’t take long for him to take the lead. This thirst was insatiable, and the more he tasted Barry’s sweet and minty warmth, the larger his desire for more became. Indescribable thrill created ethereal fireworks of pleasure behind his closed eyes. There was little room left in his brain to hope it was the same for Barry. As they ardently tasted each other, they inched toward the not-so-tidy bed a few steps away and eventually tumbled on top of it, with Len straddling Barry.

   The movement caused both of them to temporarily break away from the kiss. Huffs of breath filled the air.

   “You freaking taste like hot chocolate,” Barry hazily snickered through his breaths.

   “You tasted like caramel macchiato the other time,” Len said, almost bitterly.

   “Oh god, is it too late to apologize for that? Please don’t hold it against me,” Barry frowned, remembering the fact that he had speed-kissed the other some time ago. Which was unfair!

   “That’s only the beginning of the list of things you should apologize for, Scarlet. And I’m about to hold it against you here and now. You don’t make enemies with someone named Cold,” Len reprimanded, with mock intimidation in his voice.

   “I can be good and maybe pay it all off tonight. Deal, Captain?” Barry suggested playfully.

   Len maintained his ‘scary villain’ exterior. “Don’t negotiate with a criminal.”

   Barry rolled his eyes annoyed. “For heaven’s sake, shut the hell up, now.”

   “Funny how both heaven and hell are mentioned in the sa----,”

   Len’s voice was muffled as Barry blocked whatever trifling thing he was saying with another round of an amorous kiss. With their heartbeat gradually rising to one synchronized beat, the electric energy inside Barry finally collided with the icy flame set ablaze in Len’s heart to create a synergy neither of them had any idea they were capable of creating. This was the moment they could not give up for the world, and the tribulations that were possibly awaiting them ahead were hardly one of their concerns now. The long game was over, the tiring process was complete; what else could they focus on? What else mattered?

   While the snowstorm outside continued to devour the world with its freezing fever, the two lovers were being voraciously swallowed whole in a heated whiteout.

   Did someone say opposites attract?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!!!! I applaud you all who finished this messy story and can't thank you more for all the support.  
> Stories are nothing without a reader so I am so so happy that there were people who actually read this and cared♡
> 
> I can feel that there was progress in my writing skills and style as I wrote this thing and that also means that my first chapters were shitty as hell XD oh my god how did you guys even read them?? NOT that the later chapters are fantastic-_-
> 
> Anyway, please leave your thoughts in the comments below and wait for the epilogue:D  
> Also check out my other writings if you are by any chance interested, folks! I started a new fantasy thing called Riven which is also a Coldflash stuff duh lol
> 
> I FREAKING LOVE YOU GUYS♪


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa's reaction to Len telling her about the relationship between him and Barry...plus her interest in something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the final final chapter of WLD  
> This was like an improvisation and a tiny gift for you readers

   The beer was at no fault when it was spewed out from Lisa’s mouth. Upon hearing this ridiculous news, she was initially filled with enough surprise to choke on the alcohol. Well, when given a second thought, it wasn’t that much of a surprising news because a part of her reason had been carrying the suspicion for a long time. But being informed that it _actually_ happened was something else!

   “Barry Allen? Barry ‘ _the freaking Flash’_ Allen?” Lisa gripped the bottle by its neck and spun around in a circle, unable to hold back a series of laughter. Len was sitting on a chair a few steps away from her with a perplexed look on his face that might as well be screaming: _I regret saying anything._

   They were in one of the safe houses to work on the museum heist. Lisa had figured out about the whole deal and stubbornly claimed to take part in it because museums and galleries were the favorite places she liked to rob----Lisa deemed the art of stealing paramount and the art of stealing _art_ was totally her aesthetic. And then the ever-lingering smile that would shine about on Lenny’s face was just so pathetically obvious and bizarre that she had no choice but to interrogate her brother rather inquisitively until the cold moron finally replied as he should have in the first ten minutes. This was fucking _golden_.

   “Lenny,” Lisa affectionately called when she calmed herself down.

   “What?” he reluctantly answered.

   “You’re such a train wreck,” and then she resumed to another fit of laughter. To see Len so full of unprecedented happiness and unexplained excitement like a teenage boy was too damn funny for some reason. Central City would throw a fit if they knew what Captain Cold looked like when he was in love----oh my god, but then with a superhero, the guardian angel of the city, the Flash?! Hollywood gossips were nothing compared to this cover story-worthy news.

   “Shut up, Lisa,” Len groaned.

   “You’re kidding,” Lisa set down the bottle on top of the blueprint. “There’s no way I can shut up about this.”

   “If you----”

   “Yeah, I won’t say a word to anyone else. I know the risk too,” she winked. “But you’ll suffer a lot when we’re alone.”

   “I won’t let you in the house.”

   “That’s cute. I’m actually a thief,” she shrugged.

   A short silence of realization hung in the air.

   “But there might be a way to spare yourself from my incoming blows,” she settled on her knees and gazed right into her brother’s eyes across the desk. The negotiating mode was on.

   “I am very interested,” Len muttered.

   “Let Barry be my cupid,” Lisa suggested ambiguously.

   Len frowned confused. “What does that mean?”

   Lisa rolled her eyes in annoyance. “ _Cisco_. You know that cute guy we kidnapped once? Who made our flamboyant guns for us?”

   “Yes, I do remember. And no, I will not let you use Barry to flirt with someone that most likely holds a grudge against us,” Len said.

   “Hell yeah, like you were on good terms with Barry Allen from the beginning. You just don’t like me dating him,” Lisa pouted, standing up.

   “It’s not…Even if I _could_ let that happen, I’m not certain Barry is going to tell STAR Labs about our relationship anytime soon,” he explained. Len seemed a bit disconcerted as if he couldn’t handle another hurdle concerning a newly sprouting romance when blooming his own love story right now made him breathless. Lisa’s lips curved into another smile.

   “I’m not pushing you, Lenny. I like taking my time,” and then she shot him that look she knew Len could not neglect. The imploring, innocent mask of an adorable younger sister that she put on whenever she wanted something from Len. It worked, like, 94% of the time and thankfully, it proved useful at this moment also. Lisa understood the mini sigh sounding like leaving Len’s soul as an implication of consent.

   “Fine. But whether that kid fancies you or not is none of my concern,” Len mumbled monotonously.

   “You’re the best brother in the world,” said Lisa, bubbling up with grins and smiles.

   “Very convenient, isn’t it?” He didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in it. “Now why don’t we focus on our task here, sis?”

 _I know_ you _can’t_. Lisa mentally answered although she did walk around the desk to get a proper look at the blueprint. _Who can focus when the Flash is your boyfriend?_

* * *

 

**A few days later**

 

   “Uh, Barry?” Cisco eyed the ominous looking text message that had just arrived in his inbox. He didn’t recognize the number.

   “Yep?” His friend glanced up with a cloudless, or clueless expression.

   “This…what do you think it means?” He held out the phone for Barry to see.

   The mysterious message read: ‘ _Be seeing you real soon xo –GG_ ’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to stress that GoldenVibe is one of my shippety ships along with Coldflash, Olivarry and SaviFrost!!  
> And of course, GG is the abbreviation of Golden Glider lol
> 
> Let us meet again through other works:)  
> It was nice befriending those who walked alongside me on this journey!
> 
> The End


End file.
